Dictionary Definition
by UnsubUnicorn
Summary: Miku Hatsune: a clumsy, awkward Japanese twenty-something who likes to talk to herself. She's never had a date in her life. When her and a stranger make a drunken deal to plant jealousy in their old crushes, something else completely unexpected comes as a result instead. Request for Solitaryloner who has given me great advice for my retirement :D


_Hi guys! This is a request from Solitaryloner. It's Luki x Miku. The begninning isn't too Luki x Miku/romance-infested yet, but I think it's pretty good. I hope you like it! And to Solitaryloner, I hope you like the plot. I know you go for more supernatural things but I've had this idea in my head for a while so I used it for your request C:  
Enjoy!  
[edit] reading through it and there are a lot of typos... sorry guy _

* * *

"Oh God, he's so gorgeous." I groan to myself in the confinements of my cubicle. I bury my face behind a green binder, slamming my forehead against the desk with another groan of self-pity. Raising my head again, I peek over the cubicle wall to look at my crush of two months now. "Kaito Shion, you're so beautiful." I whimper again.

Hi. I'm Miku Hatsune. You may recognize me from… well, you wouldn't recognize me from anywhere because I'm not exactly what people consider well known. If people would stop to consider me, I'd probably be labeled as "invisible". Well, I do receive some attention. Gumi, the woman who has the cubicle next to me, tells me to "shut up, stop talking to yourself, and get a life" occasionally.

Okay, so I may be a little bit eccentric. That, I can handle. What pisses the crap out of me is the fact that in all of my twenty-six years on Earth, I've never gotten a date. I've had more than my share of crushes and infatuations, but those feelings have never been returned. I don't even know if any man (or woman) has felt attracted to me romantically (or sexually). Well, there was this one time in sixth grade when this chubby kid asked me if I wanted to go out with him…

But then the word "Not!" came shortly after.

Oh, I'm hopeless.

"You know what? Today is the day. I'll talk to him!" I say decidedly to myself. Caught up in a moment of fiery will and empowerment, I slam my palms against the desk and stand up defiantly from my green swivel chair. "Kaito Shion, prepare to be wooed!"

Then the phone rings.

Messily, I kneel down on the floor and pick up the cord phone, pushing a few strands of stray teal hair behind my ear, only to have it fall back on my face and into my mouth.

I splutter unprofessionally into the phone, ridding my mouth of the hair. "Oh! Umm, I'm so sorry about that. Hi, Vocaloid Magazine. How may I help you?" I hear the dial tone in response.

I sigh, smacking a palm into my forehead. "Stupid, stupid Miku! You really goofed it up this time." With another retired sigh, I get back up and dust the imaginary dirt off my blazer and pencil skirt. I adjust my glasses and attempt to put stray hairs back into my bun, although that action just made it messier. Then, I'm back to my goal. "Miku," I say to myself, "Today will be the day that you will get a boyfriend!" I march out of my cubicle to where Kaito is standing to see that Kaito is indeed not standing alone. He's kissing some brunette who's not lanky or flat chested like me passionately.

I head back to my cubicle. "You can't win, can you?"

As I sit back in my cubicle dejectedly, I stare unwillingly at the pile of paperwork occupying my desk. I have three hours of work left but I don't want to hang around anymore.

"Well," I drawl, "It's not like I'm employee of the month or anything."

Ten minutes later, I've packed up my briefcase and I'm ready to ditch the rest of my work. It's not like those people who are calling can't wait until tomorrow… _Vocaloid_ is a fashion magazine, not a 911 center.

I exit my cubicle and pass through the hallways, keeping a stony mask of aloofness on. However, when I get inside an empty elevator, I break down into an unattractive sob. "Why…" I ask myself, voice cracked and pleading, "Why would he like her?" I continue to cry to myself.

Of course, I don't know why I thought that a public elevator was a good place to cry because on the fourth floor a _ding_ filled the elevator and it came to a stop. The doors rolled open and a man was about to step in when he saw me. He drew himself up stiffly and mumbled, "I'll just take the stairs."

Awkward.

When I reach the floor level, I compose myself as well as I can and try to act as if I was perfectly fine. However, it's hard to convince people that you totally didn't cry your eyes out during a minute-long elevator ride when you have mascara running down your face.

Once I've exited the building, I scream to myself, "Yes! Freedom!" I throw my arms out in the air and laugh to myself blissfully. After a while, I realize that I'm still in the city.

"Oh, crap."

I walk half a block away from my work building so that people who saw my little outburst had no time to react. Now finding myself situated in front of a clothing store for pregnant women, I wait around on the sidewalk to flag down a taxi.

It takes about fifteen minutes for a taxi to look my way. It takes double that time to actually get one to drive me somewhere.

I climb into the dirty taxi noisily, banging my head on the top of the car roof. "Oh, sorry." I laugh awkwardly. I choose to ignore the taxi driver's face palm.

"Where do you need to go, Miss?" He says gruffly.

I finally get the car door to shut properly and pat it awkwardly. Then, I reposition myself so that I'm not sitting on my briefcase. "Huh? What? Oh!" My taxi driver face palms again. He's going to lose a lot of brain cells if he keeps on doing that. "Umm… sorry about that. Well, I was hoping that you could take me to my house— well, apartment actually, and— oh wait, I mean the apartment complex. I mean, it would be weird if you actually drove me up to my actual apartment, then—"

"Lady!" The taxi driver says, irritated. I shut up. "The address!" He exhales.

"Oh, right, um, sorry." I dig into my briefcase and find a folder piece of paper with my address on it. "Here."

He snatches it away and reads it. Wordlessly, he turns towards the wheel and starts up his car.

The car ride is very quiet. I want to talk to him, but I have a feeling that he doesn't like me very much. Instead, I stare at the little tree car air freshener thing hanging off of the mirror. It's very green. I wonder what it would be like if it was blue? Would it still be considered a tree?

Suddenly I'm thinking about this one song that's been in my head. I must have started humming it aloud unconsciously because the bus driver asks me to shut up. I do as told. After the taxi ride is over, I get out. I lean over the window to ask him how much the ride costs, but he just drives away as fast as he could. "Wow, rude!" I yell after him. When he's gone, I glare at the general direction he went in for one last time and walk into my apartment complex.

This time, I take the stairs. I take the stairs for no general reason; I just kind of felt like it.

After another flight of stairs, I finally see a door with chipping blue paint. "Floor… six." I read, now breathing heavily. I knew I shouldn't have had that chocolate cake.

I push the door open and walk down the carpeted hallway. After taking a few turns, I wind up in front of my apartment door. I reach into my briefcase and fish my key out from a smaller compartment inside my bag. I insert the key into the keyhole and unlock my apartment.

When I get in, I see that my brother has made himself welcome. Mikuo is sitting on the couch, arms flung wide open across the top. He's opened a bag of chips and is focused on a basketball game.

Mikuo is my older brother by a year. You'd think that we'd be similar, but we're actually polar opposites. Everyone loves Mikuo. Every week, he seems to have a new, beautiful girlfriend (and this one time, boyfriend) in his arms. Compared to my non-existent social life, Mikuo's number of lovers alone total larger than my friends.

"Mikuo," I say, closing the door and hanging my blazer, "Just because I give you keys to my apartment does not mean that you can ransack my place."

"Hey, sis."

I put a hand on my hip. "I'm surprised you aren't with some other girl. Have you dumped that blonde chick yet? I don't know her name 'cause I can't keep track of them all."

Mikuo shuts the television off. He turns around to face me with a grin. "And I can't keep track of yours. There's nothing to keep track of. Just kidding, of course."

Memories of Kaito resurface. Although I know he's only joking, it still cuts me like a knife. "Nincompoop!" I spit. With that, I run out of the apartment.

I dash down the stairway so fast that I've exited the building in no time. Tears start to stream down my face. Once I get out of there, I continue running down the sidewalk with only one place in my mind. I need a pick-me-up.

I throw the door open to the run-down bar two blocks away from where I live. I glower at everybody, thinking that they're staring at me, but I realize that they've all kept themselves (or each other) too occupied for anyone to notice my flamboyant entrance.

I plop down on a stool in front of the bar counter. I throw an elbow onto the table and rub my temples. "A beer. Doesn't matter what kind, just get it quick." I say tiredly to the bartender. I keep my eyes up just long enough to see him nod. I then close them again and sink my head into my arms.

I hear someone sit down next to me. His voice is rich and beautiful, but it wavers and breaks sadly. "Strongest thing you've got, please." I hesitate and decide to sneak a peek.

The owner of the voice has soft pink locks framing his face and a presumably sculpted body underneath a loosely buttoned shirt. His eyes a sparkling cerulean and he's all-around gorgeous, but his face is somber and his thin lips are pressed into a frown. His eyebrows are drawn together by sadness as he tries to keep himself from crying.

My beer and his alcoholic drink arrive at the same time. I want to comfort him, but I know that I'd probably just screw up both of our nights even more so I cast my eyes in the direction of my beer and take a long sip. Once I've put my beer down, I notice the salmon-haired male looking at me.

"Have a rough day?"

I turn to face him. His smile is sad, but he's offering a conversation to get perhaps both of our minds off of our troubles. "Yeah," I admit to the stranger, "You could say so."

He takes a several sips from his drink and places it down carefully. "Oh? Mind I ask what happened?" His eyes are now focused on his drink, but his body is turned towards me.

I play with a strand of loose hair. "I, uh… I saw this guy who I liked kissing someone else." I must have sounded so stupid to him, but I rambled on. "I don't know, it just seems so depressing, right? I'm twenty-six and I've never been in a relationship before. And just when I see someone who just makes my day—" a gulp of beer goes down, "he's making out with someone else right before your eyes. You know?" After I drain my glass and order another, I take a look at the listening male. He's holding a new glass of bourbon now, but his eyes are trained on me.

"Oh…" he says, "I'm so sorry."

I wave it away with another gulp of beer. With a cracking voice, I say, "No, it's nothing."

He chugs down half of his new glass. "So…" his voice cracks and he wipes his mouth, "You're twenty-six and you've never been in a relationship before?"

I look at him. "Oh, crap, did I tell you that? Well, since you already know, yeah. Nobody's even asked me out before."

"Hmm," he says thoughtfully, "I wonder why. You're very beautiful."

It would have meant a lot more to me if I didn't know that he had drank down numerous glasses of bourbon.

"Gah. Sorry for rambling." I say, now swirling a martini around, "what about you?"

"My girlfriend," he hesitates, "I just caught her cheating on me. I was planning on proposing to her next week."

"Oh my God, that's terrible!" I say between drowning myself in a second martini. This stuff is really good. "I'm so sorry about that! But hey, you don't need that hoe."

The stranger lets out a gargled laugh. "Yeah! Who needs her?" I watch with blurry vision as he drains a whole bottle of Jack Daniels.

"You don't!" I bellow encouragingly, slapping my palm against the counter repeatedly. I laugh with him obnoxiously.

"And who needs that other guy who you liked?" He asks, face animated into a look of sheer pleasure.

"I don't!" I answer, shrieking with happiness.

We both hop off of our stools, now standing up and looking at each other with intense determination.

"Yeah! We both don't need those two idiots!"

"They're dingbats!"

"Buttheads!"

"Ninny hammers!"

"Butt faces!"

I kick my leg up and slam it onto the stool I was sitting on. I hear my stockings rip and perhaps my skirt, but I'm too caught up to care. I take the male's red, sweaty palm into my identical one.

"You know what, stranger? We don't need them! We have each other!"

The male with the rosy hair grins back at me, accepting my challenge. "Oh? We do, we do! Let's go on an adventure!"

Our hands firmly clasped together and our eye contact equally as locked, we yell more drunken things before prancing outside and tumbling into his car. With a flushed face, he starts the car screaming some gibberish.

As we make sharp turns at red lights, I yell at him, "So what's our plan?"

From behind the wheel, he answers, "We'll make them jealous! We'll make them so jealous and remorseful for hurting us, they'll be kissing the ground we walk on!"

"I like that!"

"My name is Luki Megurine!"

"I'm Miku Hatsune!"

"Is that a truck driving directly in front of us?"

"Oh, shi—"

* * *

_I hope that you want to read more C:_

_ANNOUNCEMENT: I HAVE A DEVIANTART ACCOUNT! I'LL BE POSTING ART THERE. **theunsubunicorn** please check it out!_

_Have a nice day and take care!_

_xUnsub_


End file.
